


Prince Charming

by Magz (sparklepocalypse)



Category: Black Hawk Down (2001)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4527996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklepocalypse/pseuds/Magz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All you wanted to do was to crawl into the shower, and then into bed -- into his arms -- and fall asleep.</p><p>Pairing withheld, though it may just as well be Kurt/Dale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Charming

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://perseph2hades.livejournal.com/profile)[perseph2hades](http://perseph2hades.livejournal.com/), on this her natal day. Thanks to [](http://kallysten.livejournal.com/profile)[kallysten](http://kallysten.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

You were still in your fatigues, and you could barely get yourself up and out of the driver's seat when you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building. Training today had been harder than usual, and all you wanted to do was to crawl into the shower, and then into bed -- into his arms -- and fall asleep.

And hopefully, you wouldn't wake up for a good fifteen hours or so.

You thought maybe you'd build a shrine to the man who'd invented the elevator, when you stumbled into it and the doors closed behind you. That you nearly fell flat on your face when the elevator lurched upwards was of no consequence. Flat on your face in an elevator car was better than flat on your head in a stairwell.

Your feet required some convincing to carry you the rest of the way to your door. They were happy right where they were, thank you very much, and it was only the prospect of getting them out of boots and socks that actually got them to move. You thought you saw one of your neighbors look at you funny. After all, you were talking to your feet. But you were too tired to care, and the muscles in your face didn't feel like letting you glare at them.

It took you three tries to get your hand in your pocket and fish out your key, and another minute before you got it turned around the right way to push it into the slot in the lock. The door swung open before you could turn the knob, and then he was there, barefooted and dressed in the tightest, most faded, frayed pair of jeans you'd ever seen, and you thought maybe that sleep idea could hold off for a minute.

He cleared his throat. He'd caught you staring. From the look on his face, you could tell he didn't mind much.

You knew you were leering when you stepped across the threshold and said, "Hey," and reached out to touch him.

"Hey," he said, and he pulled you into the apartment by the arm, and closed the door behind you.

Things got a little hazy, and when you next caught on to what was going on, your hands were down the back of his jeans and you were sucking on his tongue. He caught hold of your shoulders and pushed you back. "How about you take a shower," he said, and kissed you again, lightly. Then again, a little harder.

"Are you suggesting that I smell?" you asked.

"I'm suggesting that you reek."

You made a face at him, and almost invited him to shower with you, but then you remembered the last time you'd tried that. You'd slipped and nearly cracked your head open on the soap ledge -- it'd been kind of a mood killer.

When you got out of the shower, he was waiting for you. You saw him all stretched out on the bed with the fly of those jeans unsnapped and you thought you might cry from the beauty of it. You didn't dwell on it too much, because your dick was demanding some attention, poking the damp towel away from you.

You dropped the towel.

Crawled onto the bed and into his arms.

The next few minutes were another blur, not that you minded because when you snapped out of it he was naked and between your thighs, and his cock was hard and wet against your ass. Your cock was wet, too, and you had to remember to thank him for thinking of you as you wrapped your legs around his and your hand around your dick, and urged him into you.

He rocked inside, and his cock nudged your prostate and it was obvious that he wanted to go slow, but with him aimed just right you couldn't _take_ slow, so you shoved your hips up against his, and tried to get him to move with you. And he grabbed your waist, and held you down to the bed, and kept rocking until you were delirious.

You think you remember screaming, or maybe it was him. You're pretty sure that you were the one who wailed when he finally started to _really_ move. You know that he was the one who jabbered about how good it was, how hot, how he could never get enough. You think maybe you moaned out an _oh God, I love you_ , but then everything splintered apart and you were a boneless mess on top of rumpled sheets, and when you opened your eyes he was staring right at you, and panting hard.

You said his name, and watched his back arch, his mouth drop open, and felt him shudder _thrust_ against you. You always loved to watch him come.

You know he cleaned you up, because the stickiness you expected to feel when you woke up fifteen hours later, wasn't there. You turned over in bed, and the sheets slid off one of your thighs, and there he was again, watching you.

"Sleeping Beauty," he said quietly.

"Does that make you Prince Charming?" you joked sleepily. Yaaaaawned and stretched.

He plopped down on the bed next to you and nuzzled your throat. "Yeah," he said. "Something like that."


End file.
